


Cake or death.

by Shulik



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 04:39:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/635210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shulik/pseuds/Shulik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By the time Danny’s finally calm enough to process things normally again, he’s now apparently the head of the Honolulu High Talent Competition Committee with Victor Hesse and Rachel Harris being his left and right hands respectively.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cake or death.

**Author's Note:**

> I once started the McDanno High School AU and now I want to finish it.

Danny stands in front of the high school, slightly to the left of the large steps leading up to the main hall and squints into the oncoming crowd of sheep through his vintage aviators. As per usual, the sun shines too brightly and Danny fingers his tie a little self-consciously but still meets the eyes of anyone that lingers on him for too long with a belligerent glare and a sarcastically raised eyebrow. 

He shifts in place, transferring the strap of his shoulder bag to his other side and checks his watch again. 

She’s late. 

_Again_. 

“Fuck,” he sighs and opens up his cellphone, a simple thing that he got with one of the cheapest plans that the local AT&T store had, none of that I-phone or Blackberry shit that costs more than Danny’s part-time jobs would ever have him afford. He scrolls down the list to the r’s and is about to press the dial button when Rachel’s car, a Union-Jack painted mini-Cooper swerves into the parking lot with an obnoxious squeal of tires. 

She manages not to run over anyone’s toes this time but it’s only due to the highly developed reflexes of the students around them and the fact that Rachel Harris has developed quite the reputation for maiming her fellow students. 

Rach’s wearing her usual get-up as she gets out of the car, skin tight black jeans, clunky combat boots and a white racer tank that highlights her half sleeve of colorful Eastern themed tattoos. She swivels her hips when she walks, almost hypnotizingly and Danny grins in appreciation as he sees several of the football players almost trip over themselves when she walks past them. 

Rachel, far be it from her to actually not fulfill the stereotype of a rebellious diplomat’s daughter, has always held quite the magnetic pull for the males of Honolulu High School. 

Danny’s still amazed that he’s managed to stay friends with her after their disastrous yet thankfully brief foray into a romantic relationship where they had realized that they were too alike to ever be able tolerate each other without the much needed outlet of sarcasm and bitchiness. 

“Daniel,” she greets him smoothly, all posh accent and lightly kohled green eyes as he falls in step with her and then ruins the whole thing by grinning wickedly and adding, “you feeling alright there after the weekend?”

Danny scowls as they pass the football players in the hall and one of them, the dickiest one out of the bunch- McGareth something, slams into Danny’s shoulder. 

“Watch it asshole!” Danny snarls when the guy does nothing except lifts an eyebrow and _smirks_ like he owns the goddamn hallways before sauntering down to wherever it is that the popular kids go to whenever they’re not practicing team sports or trying to exert their authority on the delinquent crowd. 

“I hate this school,” he grumbles as they reach their lockers, the ones that they had to resort to blackmail and bribery to arrange them in such close proximity- “and for your information, I’m feeling _excellent_. Fabulous, you might say,” he emphasizes as he swings his combination lock, “and I have _no_ idea what you’re talking when you mention the words- this weekend. None whatsoever. Because,” he smiles pleasantly at Rachel who’s rummaging through her own messenger bag with the faintly preoccupied air of a busy porcupine, “ _I_ did nothing this weekend that would hint at me not doing well afterwards. I _read_ , did my homework, helped an old lady cross the street-“

He’s rudely interrupted by the loud sound of Rachel’s howling laughter where she bends over and guffaws so hard that her eyeliner smudges from the running tears and, Danny thinks a trifle vengefully, her makeup job gets ruined. 

“Daniel,” she sucks in a breath and shoots him a highly amused look from under her bangs, “I’ve never seen someone shotgun so much beer as you did on Saturday night.” She straightens up and takes another shuddering breath, “And I used to go to private school.” 

Danny narrows his eyes, checks that he has all the right textbooks in his bag and shuts his locker with careful deliberation. “You’re obviously delusional,” he tells her with what he considers to be his kindest tone of voice, “but that’s alright. I’ll forgive you your occasional bouts of insanity for the opportunity merely because I know all that hair dye’s gone to your brain,” he bends closer and whispers in _sotto_ voice- loud enough for it to travel halfway down the hall, “all that red can’t be good for the _follicles_.” 

“Oi!” Rachel snaps indignantly and then promptly proceeds to destroy her image even further by slamming a horrifyingly hurtful fist into Danny’s shoulder, “I’ll have you know that I’m a natural redhead.” She sniffs, hurt and flicks said hair over her shoulder and moves after him towards their homeroom. 

And then someone jumps on Danny, wrapping their octopus-like body around him while Danny yelps and tries to disengage himself from their vice-like grip. 

“Fucking hell,” Danny growls and smoothes his hair back from where Victor’s managed to mess it up, all within the space of five seconds, “do you _have_ to do that? Every single morning?” 

“Of course I do, princess-“ Victor guffaws, fiendishly bright blue eyes gleaming, “I’ve got to keep you on your toes- don’t I?” 

Victor moves with the easy grace of someone completely and utterly sure of himself, lithe and lean like a predator as he stalks his way through the unsuspecting mass of mediocrity in high school. He’s wearing his black Ramones t-shirt today over a pair of faded blue jeans ripped at the knee. The outfit would scream ‘douche’ on any other guy, but Victor has a way of making punk-grunge work for him. 

It’s kind of mildly upsetting, Danny thinks as he trudges after Rachel and Victor who promptly launches into yet another tirade on why her car is an offense against humanity and the British Isles, that his best friends are the best looking people he’s met since he’s been forced to socialize with the horrifyingly Abercrombie-ish looking island of entirely too tanned people. 

Rachel’s British and Victor’s Irish, but they’ve both been dragged all over the world by their parents and Victor’s accent has managed to become this mishmash of various dialects with a fairly Irish lilt to his vowels while Rachel still sounds upper-class Londoner. They’re both gorgeous and both, unfortunately, absolutely insane and Danny couldn’t love them more. 

“Danno, you big slut!” Victor gives a huge bark of approving laughter from where Rachel, the blabbermouth, has apparently been occupied with divulging all the details of Danny’s sordid weekend shenanigans, “I didn’t know you had it in you.” 

He looks delighted as they follow the herd of students into Miss Collier’s first period homeroom class. “If I’da known, I would have made sure to take plenty of photographic evidence.” Victor pulls a sad face as he slides into his customary seat in the back where the three of them have appropriated a space of their own, “Capture the moment for posterity’s sake, so to speak.” 

Rachel winks at one of the football players, the least douchey one of the whole bunch in Danny’s estimation, the one with the serene Buddha-like air to him and saunters down the row to her own seat. “Don’t worry,” she shoots Victor a commiserating grin, “I had my phone on me,” she says and Danny lets out a loud groan because if his phone is a basic communications device- then Rachel’s phone is this little machine that can take over the world on its own. The amount of applications and additional features on that thing would make any tech nerd’s heart palpitate in double time and Rachel delights in using its features at any given opportunity. 

Sure enough, she starts digging around in her bag as everyone hustles into their own seats- “I think I even have a picture of him streaking through my front yard,” she says and Danny thumps his head against his desk because how did this become his life?

Miss Collier chooses that moment to start talking and Rachel can’t really go showing the photographic evidence of his downfall while in class and Danny’s feeling a lot more relaxed than he should be, which is probably why he misses the crucial moment when the teacher ropes the three of them into helping organize the end of year talent show. 

“What?” he sputters and looks at Rachel who’s looking a little pale from where she’s slouched and Victor who’s busy making come-hither eyes at Kono Kalakaua who’s basically been adopted by the football team by virtue of being the younger cousin of the previously mentioned Buddha-like Chin. She’s some kind of genius who’s managed to skip like a grade and a half into their senior year while still being sixteen. 

“Quit it,” Danny hisses and aims a well aimed kick at Victor’s bony shin, seeing the death glares coming from douchebag McGarett and Kono’s older cousin. 

Victor comes out of his lust trance long enough to glare at Danny and realize the potential enormity of what has just happened. 

“I don’t think so,” he shakes his head and crosses his arms, “I never agreed to this,” he adds and looks stormily at the teacher shooting him an indulging smile from the head of the room. 

Victor, Danny knows, expects to be let out of this thing immediately. He’s kind of a teacher’s pet like that, except without the sucking up and more with the inappropriate flirting that he engages in with any available female teacher and quite a few of the male ones. 

“Tough luck Mister Hesse,” Miss Collier smiles disarmingly, “but you either agree to help Mister Williams and Miss Harris, or you fail both homeroom and social studies.” She cocks her head and furrows her brow while tapping her finger against her lips, “Tell me Mister Hesse, how will your father feel about you not having handed in a _single_ assignment in four months?” 

Danny sucks in a breath, and eyes the young teacher with something bordering on respect. It takes balls to go for the father card with Victor who’s like the most awful example of a general’s son _ever_ , and no teacher has ever been able to pull rank with him. 

“Fine,” Victor grounds out, still looking mutinous, “we’ll do it. And we’ll make it the best goddamn talent show your dinky little school’s _ever_ seen.” 

“Language,” Miss Collier scolds and says something else but Danny’s too busy trying to strangle Victor in a discreet way to realize that douchebag McGarett’s just volunteered to help along with Chin and one of the hippie girls that hangs out by the bleachers, perpetually stoned out of her mind- Catherine, ‘call me Cat’. 

By the time Danny’s finally calm enough to process things normally again, he’s now apparently the head of the Honolulu High Talent Competition Committee with Victor Hesse and Rachel Harris being his left and right hands respectively. 

Life sucks, but maybe not as much as it could- because Danny has authority, power and carte blanche over two of the school’s most popular jocks and the hippie girl’s pretty cute in that dark haired and tall way that Danny’s always been partial to.


End file.
